


The Unexplored Continent

by partypaprika



Category: The Lady Sherlock Series - Sherry Thomas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:05:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partypaprika/pseuds/partypaprika





	The Unexplored Continent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mihrsuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihrsuri/gifts).



When Ash was eleven, his godfather invited him to his estate. In part, Ash knew that it was because his father wanted to take his mistress, one Miss Redmayne, on a trip to Europe and felt some small amount of guilt about leaving his youngest child with no companions at Eastleigh Park. He also suspected that his godfather had expressed an interest to spend some time with Ash and his father, for Ash’s mother’s sake, had acquiesced to such overtures. And so, Ash had been packed up and sent off with his tutor for Stern Hollow.

Ash’s tutor, a thin speckled man with an unfortunate tendency to sneeze often and dab his eyes, sat beside him in the coach and read while Ash scribbled notes in his notebook and dreamed about what he might find at Stern Hollow. The journey was not overlong and it seemed that they had barely left Eastleigh when they passed through the thick gates that bordered Stern Hollow.

Ash's godfather was a large man and he greeted them in the entrance way as his manservant directed servants to unload Ash’s luggage. “Ingram,” his godfather said. Ash went to hug him and then stopped—when they had last seen each other, Ash had been a child of ten. Now, he was more grown up and so he extended his hand. His godfather repressed a small smile but held out his hand as well.

“Godfather,” Ash said. “Thank you for having me.”

“Oh come now,” his godfather said. “We both know that you are the one doing me the favor. I must see to the business of my estate and it is terribly tedious here by myself. But come, let’s go inside and warm up and you can tell me about the latest archaeological innovations.”

Ash immediately launched into the work of Mr. Cunningham and Vaishali and how his father had recently acquired a book on the excavations at Pompeii for Ash to read. Throughout the afternoon, Ash's godfather listened, not just dutifully, but with interest, asking Ash what he thought of Mr. Cunningham's work and what duties an excavator held towards the treasures that he uncovered.

As Ash went to sleep that night, he felt pleased with his first day. He hadn't been—worried—or anything of that manner. But, with the wisdom of hindsight, he could say that he had been uncertain at what he might find here at Stern Hollow. One normally visited family and for all that his godfather was family in all but name, Ash had never visited him by himself. But whatever Ash had been expecting, Stern Hollow felt at once like an adventure and like home and he could say with complete sincerity that he was happy to stay for some time.

The next few weeks took on a sort of pattern—in the morning, Ash would go through his studies with his tutor while his godfather managed his accounts and dealt with his business. Ash was not entirely certain what being a banker entailed, but it seemed to keep his godfather busy.

In the afternoons, Ash and his godfather would ride out and visit areas of the estate that were under various parts of construction as they renovated damage that had been done by winter or new waterworks that his godfather wanted installed. Upon occasion, his godfather’s steward accompanied them, listening intently and offering suggestions, but mostly it was just Ash and his godfather.

And then, one day, at dinner, his godfather cleared his throat. “My cousin, Deborah, and her husband will be coming next week to visit for the Passover holiday.”

Ash did his tutor and father proud by not staring with his mouth open. He knew that his godfather was a Jew, but it always been discussed by adults in a sort of hushed whisper to hide the shame of such mischance. Ash had never expected his godfather to speak of Hebrew practises openly, least of all to Ash. Ash knew that he should have reacted with internal horror or disgust at the mention of their existence; however, Ash found instead that his interest was piqued rather than scandalized.

Ash groped about trying to ask an appropriate question. “How is Passover celebrated?” he said and watched to see how his question landed.

His godfather’s mouth subtly quirked up. “Among the Jews, the first and second night of Passover is celebrated by a feast, during which we will read from the Haggadah, a prayer book specifically for the Passover holiday. My staff will be preparing the house for the holiday, however if you would prefer to not partake in the holiday, I can arrange for you to head back to Eastleigh Park.”

“No,” Ash said quickly. “I mean—I would like to stay for Passover.”

“Good,” his godfather said. “Good.”

 

The staff at Stern Hollow spent the next week in some frenetic activity. Boxes of food were removed from the kitchen and the estate, in short order, while other pantry items stayed, to no discernable pattern.

Ash's godfather's cousin, Mrs. Rosen, and her husband, a thin Mr. Rosen, along with their two children arrived in the middle of it.

“Lord Ingram,” Mrs. Rosen said once they entered the house. “I have heard much about you and your archaeological prowess.” She smiled warmly at Ash and Ash couldn’t help but return her smile. Mr. Rosen was a more quiet man but he shook hands with Ash and said that he had heard many good things about Ash.

The Rosens had a  six-year-old daughter, Amy, and four-year-old son, Benjamin, that stared at Ash while they clung to their mother. That changed almost immediately when Ash suggested that they go play outside and they followed Ash out into the gardens with no small amount of hero worship while their parents went with Ash’s godfather into his study.

 

Ash waited impatiently through the next few days as Passover drew closer. After what felt like an eternity, the day itself approached and one of his godfather’s servants helped Ash dress with particular care.

When Ash made his way down to the dining room, he saw that small books, labelled in Hebrew, were placed next to every table setting. In the middle of the table was a large plate with an egg, bone, piece of parsley, a orange compote of some type and, even more oddly, horseraddish on it. Next to it, a plate held several pieces of flat bread that Ash gathered were matzos. Ash sat down and began studying the prayer book, surprised to find inside that the majority was actually written in English and not Hebrew.

After a minute, Mr. and Mrs. Rosen joined Ash, along with Amy and Benjamin. Last of all, his godfather appeared and then the dinner began.

It started with his godfather reading from the Haggadah (which turned out to be read from the wrong end!), describing each thing before they did it. First, the adults said something in Hebrew, that his godfather translated for Ash, Amy and Benjamin, then the adults sipped wine while Ash and the children drank grape juice. Then, each of them were directed to take a piece of the parsley, dip it in a small bowl of salt water set before them, and then eat it. Amy and Benjamin found this very silly but they laughed as they did it, so Ash followed as well. One of the pieces of matzo was broken and then the group launched into a retelling of the plight of the Israelites at the Egyptians’ hands.

They came to a point where a series of four questions were asked by Benjamin, who slowly read them with Amy’s assistance. Ash’s godfather explained what each question meant—sometimes interrupted by Amy, who was eager to demonstrate her knowledge on the subject.

As they went through the blessings, Ash’s godfather and Mrs. Rosen taking time to explain and answer questions from Ash and the children, they only ate token bites from the food on the table. After a while, Ash’s stomach gave a small grumble, but he valiantly shoved it down, although he exchanged a look with Amy of pure comradery.

It was almost a surprise when they got to dining portion of the evening. Ash’s godfather nodded at one of his servants, and a series of serving plates shortly appeared.

There were all manner of foods that Ash had never seen before! Mrs. Rosen named each one for Ash and though Ash was initially wary, they were all so good that he quickly finished what was on his plate, especially that of the soup, which Mrs. Rosen named as knoedel soup. There was wine-braised brisket, fish, roasted artichokes and delicious rolls that Mrs. Rosen explained were made from matzo since they were prohibited from eating bread during Passover.

 The adults smiled and laughed as they ate and Amy and Benjamin kept trying to share things with Ash. Although Ash had enjoyed each dinner at his godfather’s house, he could not hesitate to name this as being his favorite evening.

 

After dinner wrapped up, Mrs. and Mr. Rosen carried their fast-asleep children off to bed and Ash’s godfather walked Ash back to his room.

“What did you think?” he asked.

Ash knew what he should have thought—that his godfather was an abomination. That the dinner had been a mockery of true righteousness. But, it hadn’t felt like an abomination. It had felt warm and right—like the best dinners when Remington was home, making Ash laugh at stuck-up Wycliffe.

“It was wonderful,” Ash said simply.

His godfather didn’t say anything until they were almost at Ash’s door. “I’m glad,” he said quietly and he leaned in to pull Ash for a hug.

 

 

 

Later, it would have been inaccurate to say that Ash dwelled upon the memory over the years that passed—he did not. However, he found himself, from time to time, taking out the memory of the Passover dinner with his godfather and smiling fondly.

Once Ash departed for Eton the following year, he did not have much opportunity to visit his godfather, but they maintained a regular correspondence. Sometimes he found himself wishing that he had the boldness to ask more of his godfather—to ask about the other Hebrew practices, to talk with him about his life, his ambitions. Ash was not ignorant of the rumors regarding his parentage—even if he had been particularly dull, the boys with him at Eton were not ones for subtlety and were more than happy to repeat the spiteful words that their parents had said.

It should have bothered Ash. Or rather, the association with such a race should have bothered Ash. Instead, he found himself enraged on his godfather’s behalf. After his first year, he had landed in hot water more than once for brawling on school grounds. By Ash’s third year, Ash was a proficient fighter, his swing strong and true enough to require respect from his peers—at least to his face.

And still, each time that Ash saw his godfather, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. About any of it. He let it fade into the background—happy to exchange that worry for other worries—that of girls and his country.

 

 

 

And then, one day while at Stern Hollow, many years after the sting of his godfather's death had passed, Ash dug around in one of his study drawers reserved for old files, trying to locate an notebook on his research in Italy. Near the bottom, he found something that made him pause. His godfather’s Haggadah.

Slowly, Ash pulled it out and set it on the desk. He stared at it and then, before he could stop himself, he ran his fingers over the letters on the front. He opened the book and carefully flipped through it.

After a long time, he took out a piece of paper and began to write.

_Dear Mrs. Rosen,_

_I hope you are quite well. It has been some time since we last spoke and I hope that Miss Rosen and Mr. Rosen are healthy. I would like to invite you to visit Stern Hollow…_


End file.
